One week in, and this already feels like home. It may be the intensity of the shared experiences and diving head first into a completely different culture and lifestyle, but normalcy, such as it is, has been quickly re-established. Morning coffees, grocery shopping, evening walks, hosting dinner parties - these have all resumed but with an added richness to savour: we're in Italy.
Case in point: Saturday. My roommates and I relished sleeping in and waking up to golden sunlight. A quick trip to a new bakery for some pane di bra, a glorious rustic-type of nutella croissant to tide us over, our resident chef's creativity, and we sat down to brunch in our sun-soaked kitchen.
Next on the agenda was a trip to Cherasco, a beautiful hill town about 7 km away. We wandered through the historic town centre, exclaiming over architecture and gastronomia shops, savouring the sun toasting our shoulders.
Our purposes were several: to scout potential homes for a friend, to explore another village in our area, and to try some of the recommended local specialties from our series of lectures earlier this week on regions of Italy. But as I laughed to my roommates while sampling torrone di cioccolato made from nocciole piemonte I.G.P, and tasting three local wines - an arneis, a barbera and a barbaresco, it's a tough life when applying what you've learned in class requires you to do things that give you joy. Our experiential 'homework' consists of activities we do as a matter of course anyway.
The food focus continued with a trip to the local, smaller Saturday afternoon farmer's market, where we met half the people in our program. Before arriving here, I never knew the scents of fruit and vegetables could be so vibrant, that fennel could be so fragrant and yet not overpoweringly licorice, or that the pepper of arugula is tempered with a fresh taste of green. Every shopping trip is an adventure of epic proportions, and an overwhelming stimulus of the senses. And it's not even summer yet...
Lest you think this is solely a year of flitting glamorously around Europe, sampling food and wine, note that there are 7 journal articles on food policy and sustainability to be read by Monday morning with an exam and presentation due by Friday. There was a general scattering of people home for a solid afternoon of reading and discussion.
But then there was our late dinner - the first dinner party. As someone with a readily admitted shellfish adversion, this was a triumph. We devoured plates of mussels in a fennel and cream sauce, rustic traditional bread, steamed asparagus tossed with lemon, as of yet nameless sauteed greens, an acidic tomato and mint salad and bottles of young local Arneis wine. A small slice of torrone di cioccolato was the perfect finish. Eating finished sometime early this morning, the conversations much later.
Despite all the growing pains of bureaucracy, apartment hunting, jet lag and communication challenges, I couldn't think of a better place to spend a year. Or better people to spend it with.
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